Yohji's Bad Day
by Sky Rat
Summary: Sarcastic Yohji ramblings. He's having a bad day and makes an unpleasant discovery in his search for escape. About Ken! Heh heh. ALMOST Yohji x Ken (you'll see.) Oh boy, looks like Yohji's getting a little obsessed with his 'discovery.' COMPLETE!
1. Bad day lamented

**Disclaimer: **Weiß ain't mine. The characters belong to Koyasu Takehito, who's not me. Nope.   
  
  
**Yohji's Bad Day **   
  
  
I was having one of _those_ days.   
  
You know the kind I'm talking about. Like when you where back in high school. You'd accidentally oversleep, miss your ride, lose your homework, only to arrive at school to discover that today's the day of the big midterm, which you'd conveniently forgotten to study for. And _then_ (oh yes, there's _more_) you'd finally make it to lunch and think, "Thank god, I can finally start to relax," but along comes your best friend who announces that his parents have decided to move to _Calcutta_ because (this is the best part) they think you're a bad influence on him and want to get him as far the hell away from you as they can.   
  
Maybe you don't know what I'm talking about. Maybe you are one of those people with sickeningly perfect lives who have never had a bad day in their existence. The type who considers a stressful day one spent trying to decide whether to use pink or blue stationary while writing their 'thank you' notes (yeah, you know who you are.) Well if that's the case, then get the fuck away from my story, because it's not for you. Go find something else to read, like "Chicken Soup for the Kid-Whose-Goldfish-Died's Soul" or some other inspirational crap like that.   
  
I digress.   
  
Anyway, to cut a long story short, I was probably having the suckiest day of my life. Now don't go bringing up stupid obvious points like (insert sarcastic whiney voice here) 'Gee, what about when Asuka died? That must have been a worse day, huh, Yohji?' Well, duh. Of course that sucked more. But I'm trying to play up the sympathy here, ok?   
  
I'll just skip past the gory details and bring you to the present where you'll find one very disgruntled Yohji Kudoh sitting dejectedly at the Koneko's kitchen table.   
  
The first thought that goes through my head is, "God, I need a cigarette." My hand instinctively raises to my shirt pocket where the box of heaven-sent-chemical-bliss-sticks usually resides. Nothing. I scan my surroundings in hopes of discovering that I had absent-mindedly left them lying about. All countertops are devoid of my cancer-causing friends. Hmmm. As a last resort I check the junk drawer into which all lost articles seem to migrate. After about 20 minutes of futile searching I have no choice but to conclude that they are not there. Damn. That could only mean...I peer down the dismal opening of the kitchen sink's garbage disposal, and as I suspected, am met with the tragic view of shredded paper and water-logged tobacco.   
"Fuck."   
That genki brat might as well have left a note that said "love Omi" or something down there with them.   
  
Ok, time for plan two. Where's the caffeine? The coffee pot is predictably empty. I mean, come on, did anyone really think that my day was going to pick up that easily? When a day goes this wrong, it's never satisfied until your entire life is in shambles. It's some obscure law of physics, I think.   
  
A strip search of the cabinets reveals that we are all out of make-able coffee; fresh, freeze-dried, or otherwise.   
  
Soda! Soda has caffeine! Please god, have mercy on my soul and let there be some sort of caffeinated beverage in the refrigerator.   
  
I hold my breath as the door swings open. My hopefulness is rewarded by a pitcher of green tea and a plate of carrot sticks. Great. Just great. Aya was obviously in charge of groceries this week. Wonderful.   
  
So lets see…Omi failed me. Aya failed me. That leaves Ken. My good ol' buddy Ken. Ken will come through for me for sure. I happen to know that Ken keeps a shoebox under his bed which is always filled with chocolate confections. Just what the doctor Yohji ordered.   
  
Why does Ken keep his sweet addiction hidden in a box under his bed? To avoid the berating and teasing he'd receive from yours truly on how a star athlete ought to worry about his figure, etc, etc.   
  
Heh. Is it any wonder I was the private detective out of the bunch? Nothing gets past me in this house.   
  
So here I am congratulating myself on my keen detective skills as I sneak up the stairs towards Kenken's room. I stop at his door and listen. Not a sound. He's either asleep or out. _Excellent_. I take care to oh-so-carefully turn the doorknob, ensuring that I will not disturb Ken, if by chance he's present and sleeping.   
  
And the room is empty!   
Score Card:   
Bad Day: 215, Yohji: 2   
Things are looking up.   
  
Within minutes I have retrieved the glorified box from under his bed and am in the process of analyzing its contents. It's about twice as full as usual. _Ken you glutton_. Ah well, all the better for me. He's less likely to notice my raid. I break a square off a Meiji bar and pop it in my mouth as I sort though the loot. Hey! Coffee flavored chocolate! Put another mark on the Yohji score card. Ken, you are a lifesaver.   
  
As my hand digs through the heavenly stash, I am met with something hard and flat. Weird. The box seemed bigger than that. I shouldn't have hit the bottom already? The box is quickly overturned and a shower of shiny wrappers fall to the floor. Thud. Several heavier objects land on top. They look like…magazines.   
  
Magazines? Why would Ken keep magazines hidden in a box filled with secret candy? Interesting, interesting. I must investigate. Spreading the magazines out, I take a closer look.   
The first thought that enters my mind is, "damn. Those are some _UGLY_ wenches!" The sex god that is Yohji Kudoh was not meant to look upon such ugly women. It's like, sacrilegious, or something.   
  
The second thought that enters my mind is, "they're not just ugly, they're flat as boards! Don't magazines have any standards these days?"   
The third thought that enters my mind (and this one's a dozy) is, "ohmygodthosearen'tbroadsthey'reMEN!"   
  
Score Card:   
Yohji: -2, Bad Day: 38527.   
  
Now, before you get on my case, let me say this. Considering the effeminate state in which Japanese celebrities seem trapped these days, is it really _that_ surprising that I mistook these guys for gals? I mean, look at that Gackt guy. He's popular as all hell, and he wears _makeup_! Man, I swear. That dude is _not_ a dude.   
  
A quick flip-through confirms my suspicions that these periodicals where of the sketchy pornographic nature (not that I'm an expert in that field or anything, mind you.)   
  
Oh. My. God.   
  
Ken. Innocent, naïve little Ken. Reading porn filled with ugly dudes. Has the world gone mad?   
  
A picture of Ken dripping in blood with bugnuks extended flips through my mind. Ok, maybe he's not _that_ innocent. But you know what I meant.   
  
I hear the downstairs door slam shut. Shit. Someone's home, I'd better cover my tracks.   
  
The box's contents are quickly replaced, minus one sketchy mag.   
I keep one for closer inspection at a latter date.   
Yeah, yeah. Curiosity killed the cat, I know. But I want to find out to just what sick level of corruption my poor little Kenken has sunk.   
Evidence of my activities covered, I make it safely to my room undetected.   
The door locked, I toss the confiscated magazine onto my bed.   
  
So much for nothing in this house getting past me.   



	2. Bad day forgotton

  
  
So where was I?   
  
Ah, that's right, Ken.   
  
I am seriously disturbed. I mean, you live with someone for two or three years and you'd think you'd know the guy.   
  
Not that I'd expect to know _everything_ about him.   
  
I mean, like the fact that Ken always wears his stupid red soccer shirt on days when there's a Manchester vs. J-league game. Seriously, _always_. Or the fact that although he tells everyone his favorite color is green, it is actually, more specifically viridian? Who'd blame me for not noticing that?   
  
But Ken reading ugly dudified porn…now that's big.   
How the hell did he manage to slip that one past me?   
It's an obvious cry for help.   
And as I was the first to discover this, it will be my cause.   
Yes, I, Kudoh Yohji, will help cure Ken of his perversion.   
  
Before you get started on me, let me clear something up. I am not homophobic. Far from it. What's bothering me here is not so much the implications that Ken is, erm, gay, but the fact that he's obviously so desperate that he's turning to the nasty sort of specimens portrayed in these questionable publications. I mean, c'mon, I couldn't even tell them apart from a bunch of broads! He's currently spending his precious free time looking at these _circus freaks_, while simultaneously sharing an apartment with the sexiest man in the country (ahem, that's me.)   
  
Not that _I'm_ like that mind you. But he didn't even ask.   
  
Ken, you wound me.   
  
I'd better find out just how bad this has gotten.   
  
I head downstairs and take note of the fact that I can faintly hear the television running. This is my first clue that Ken is home. Omi, of course, would have been at the computer, and Aya…well Aya doesn't seem to understand the concept of 'entertainment'.   
  
I am so busy running these deductions through my head that I don't watch where I'm going and trip over a soccer ball at the bottom of the stairs.   
  
That is my second clue that Ken is home.   
  
I steady myself and hope I didn't make too much noise. Don't want Ken to think something's amiss.   
  
A peek into the TV room reveals that he is obliviously absorbed in whatever it is he is watching.   
  
And just what the hell _is_ he watching?!   
  
It looks like…the shopping network?   
  
Oh dear god. It's worse than I thought.   
  
I cough to alert him of my presence, which startles him and nearly causes him to overturn the can of CC Lemon he had balanced on his knee. Unfortunately he _did_ overturn the bowl of crackers balanced on the other knee, and in his dive to clean them up succeeds in allowing the CC Lemon to join the crackers on the floor.   
  
I mean to help him clean up, I really do. It's just that I'm too busy trying not to laugh.   
  
I try averting my attention to the TV to keep from laughing.   
  
Currently it's showing a decrepit old blond hag waving around a gold necklace with a pendant on it the size of Okinawa. Cripes. That thing would make Mr. T blush. There's a little Chinese man next to her, who's saying something along the lines of: _Our company is the largest gold manufacturer in the world! We are even in the Guinness Book of World Records for making the largest 24 carat solid gold toilet! People pay money just to flush it! Yessiree! That's why no one can match our prices, we-- _   
  
Ok, so much for that plan. I give up on self restraint and fall on the floor laughing.   
  
Ken scowls.   
  
"Nice to see you too, Yohji."   
  
"Sorry Ken, but what the hell are you watching _that_ crap for?!"   
  
I notice a slight blush.   
  
"No soccer today."   
  
"Aren't there usually cartoons or something on at this time?"   
  
"Just _Hamster Club_."   
  
"I thought you liked that show.?"   
  
"Repeat."   
  
"Ah."   
  
Hmm…So Ken had gay porn. That's strike one. Caught watching the jewelry hour on HSN; that's strike two. I just need something to drive my theory home…the wheels start turning in my head…   
  
"Hey, Ken?"   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Manx came by while everyone was out. She wants us to stake out a club for some drug-runners. You up to it?"   
  
Ken looks a little surprised.   
  
"Er, sure. I guess so."   
  
I cross my fingers hoping he doesn't ask to see the case file. And he doesn't. The ever-trusting Ken.   
  
"When do we have to go?"   
  
"Tonight, if possible."   
  
"Oh, ok."   
  
I stop and survey what he's wearing. It's that dumb green bowling shirt of his. This will not do.   
  
"Ken? Do you have anything you can wear to a club?"   
  
"Um, I guess I'll wear a black v-neck and some jeans or something."   
  
"I don't think so. C'mon, we're going shopping."   
  
I grab his hand and pull him off the floor.   
  
"What?! What's wrong with my clothes?"   
  
I'm already dragging him towards the door….   
  
"They're not manly enough."   
  
"What the hell are you on, Yohji?! You're scaring me."   
  
"Shut up and get in the car."   
  
Doors locked, I now have one very flustered Ken Hidaka at the mercy of my credit card.   
  
And my bad day is all but forgotten.   



	3. Shopping with Ken

  
  
"So Yohji, why are we taking the subway instead of your car?"   
  
Ken looks genuinely puzzled. We really don't bother with public transportation very often. I love my car too much for that.   
  
"It's too hard to find parking in Ginza."   
  
"Ginza? We're going to Ginza?! Christ Yohji, that place is for snobby rich tourists, not me!"   
  
"Rich tourists who want the cutting edge of Japanese fashion," I point out. I jokingly put my arm around his shoulder and ruffle his hair.   
  
"No worries, Kenken. I know _just_ the place to find you some spiffy club gear. I'll have you looking _Man-tastic_ in no time."   
  
Ken snorts and claps his hand over his mouth in an attempt to not hurt my feelings by breaking out in a hysterical laughing fit.   
  
He fails.   
  
"Ahahahaa ::choke:: hehe…"   
  
I try to give him a looks that says "Alas! You wound me!"   
  
"What?"   
  
"It's just….::splutter::… you sound like one of those dorks on the shopping network!!"   
  
"Hey! YOU'RE the dork who actually watches that!"   
  
"I was bored! Besides, it's funny! They sell the most awful stuff! I mean, truly _atrocious_ stuff! And then they get so excited when they talk about it. As if owning a golf ball sized cubic zirconia is the key to solving world hunger or something. I think it's hilarious!!"   
  
He was watching it for _entertainment_? Weird. Unless he was covering just now. But Ken doesn't lie. At least I'm pretty sure he doesn't. Rats. I'll have to slash that piece of incriminating evidence off the list. How boring. I'll have to pay closer attention for something else.   
  
For ten minutes Ken quietly pretends to watch out the window. I know he's pretending because being that we are in the subway, there is nothing out the window to watch.   
  
He seems to shift uncomfortably, and I realize that he must have noticed that I was watching him.   
  
Oops. Better move my attention somewhere else. I mean, Ken's not going to do anything suspicious if he knows I'm staring at him, now is he?   
  
I scan the train's interior. There is a pretty hot looking guy sitting in the row across from us. A perfect target. Maybe if Ken catches me looking at him, he'll look too, and I can evaluate his reaction to such an attractive specimen.   
  
Excellent, heheh.   
  
I start scrutinizing my victim.   
  
He's wearing skin-tight jeans covered in streaks of silver glitter. On top is a tight muscle tee with "foxy lady" emblazoned across the front in bright flamingo pink.   
  
He can pull it off, he's pretty thin. Not as much so as me, more like Ken.   
He's not as attractive as Ken…but he's still pretty hot.   
I bet Ken would look good in that outfit….   
I wonder what _I_ would look like in glitter jeans?   
Nah. Leather's more my thing. But for Ken….   
  
Oh that's right, Ken.   
  
I ought to check on him.   
  
I take a peek in his direction out of the corner of my eye. Yep, he's definitely stopped looking out the window.   
  
But he's not looking at 'foxy lady' either.   
  
He is, more specifically, watching _me_ look at 'foxy lady.'   
  
Oops again. I look away from the 'target' and Ken quickly returns to blankly gazing out the window.   
  
Smooth, real smooth.   
  
I swear, it's like the universe is out to get me today.   
  
Oh well, I see our stop coming up. That should distract Ken from my awkward moment there.   
  
I grab his arm and drag him to the door.   
  
Unfortunately, the exit is blocked by a gang of giggling high school girls. When they notice us the giggling becomes decidedly louder. Of for the love of….I don't have time for this today.   
  
I mean, I love the attention and all, but why does it _always_ have to be high school girls? Why don't I ever get mobbed by a gang of hot swimsuit models? Or college students? You never see college girls skipping class to buy flowers, oh no… Life is so not fair.   
  
Anyway, aside from some obnoxious squealing and pointing, we make it off the train unscathed. Which is a good thing, because I was seriously not in the mood to deal with them. I might have done something to ruin my reputation as Tokyo's biggest ladies man. I certainly can't have that happening.   
  
Now that we've cleared the crowd, I ought to let go of Ken's arm. _Ought_ to. But I don't. I have a sneaking suspicion that he'd conveniently 'loose' me, given the chance. He doesn't seem very keen on this shopping expedition. I don't know why. Doesn't he want to look as cool as me?   
  
The shop that I have in mind is quite close to the station. There's a big black and white sign above the door that states: "Be Soul, Fuck'n Cool."   
  
Yep, classy.   
  
Ken gives me this resigned puppy dog look. He's like, practically oozing cute-ness. It almost makes me wince. What, does he like, practice that look in front of the mirror or something? Maybe I should learn how he does it. It might help me with my deficiency of hot swimsuit models.   
  
I'll make a mental note of that for later. Right now my mission is Ken. So I mercilessly push him into the shop.   
  
He immediately covers his eyes and starts hollering.   
  
"Ah!! The rhinestones! The glitter! It's so bright! I'm bliiiind! Yohji? Where are you?!"   
  
He starts waving his arms about like he's trying to find me. Oh, this is too much. I lightly smack him in the back of the head.   
  
"Cut it out, you dork."   
  
He actually smiles at me and folds his arms.   
  
"No way. You insulted my taste. I'm not going down without a fight."   
  
"It's for your own good," I reassure him, "you'll thank me later."   
  
He gives me a disbelieving look.   
  
"Uh-huh. I'm sure I will."   
  
I ignore his lack of faith and steer him towards the back of the store. That's where all the leather and vinyl is.   
  
Yeah, this is going to be fun.   
  
I point out a fishnet shirt that I think would look good on him.   
  
"NO way Yohji. I'd freeze to death! I have comfort standards when it comes to clothes!"   
  
I shake my head sadly.   
  
"You really are no fun sometimes, you know that?"   
  
"Oh, bite me," he mutters.   
  
"Maybe I will."   
  
I try not to laugh when he gives me a look like a deer caught in headlights. This is too easy. I better change the subject before he has a heart attack or something.   
  
"This looks good," I pull a leather vest off of a nearby rack. I'm not even going to bother asking him what he thinks. He's going to try it on whether he likes it or not.   
  
A few minutes later I've found a pair of black vinyl pants for him. Very very shiny vinyl pants. I start pushing him towards the dressing room.   
  
"Er, Yohji, I still need a shirt."   
  
"Stupid, the vest _is_ the shirt!"   
  
Ken just sighs and enters the dressing room.   
  
A few minutes later Ken comes back out looking very self conscious.   
  
"I don't know about this Yohji…."   
  
"Yohji?"   
  
"Uh, Yohji, you can close you mouth."   
  
My mouth? Oh shit, I hadn't even realized I was gaping.   
  
But, _DAMN_.   
  
"Er, Yohji, this is not my idea of dressing manly."   
  
"Never mind that. You look good." _Very good_. Wow. It's like a crime to humanity that he hasn't dressed like this before.   
  
Ken still looks embarrassed. "These pants are _awfully_ tight Yohji…."   
  
"No arguing. It's perfect. You're getting it, and that's that."   
  
Ken's staring at his feet and blushing, "I guess…."   
  
"No buts! Now hurry up and change back so we can get going."   
  
In no time at all he's back and hands me the (not very big) pile of new clothes. I pull out my credit card and head towards the register.   
  
But not before making a quick detour to the accessory department where I pick out one very sexy leather choker. I think I'll save that detail as a surprise for when Ken gets dressed tonight.   
  
God, I'm evil.   



	4. Yamamoto's

  
  
So now we are in my car, as usual. Heading to a club, which including Ken in the formula, is not so usual.   
  
The ride is silent, except for the occasional question by Ken about the "mission."   
  
"What's the target's name?" He asks.   
  
Time to improvise! "Uh…Naito…Taro…Taro Naito, that's right."   
  
"And what's he look like?"   
  
"Look like?" I echo.   
  
"Yeah."   
  
"He's, uh…tall…and has…green hair…."   
  
"Green hair?" Ken muses, "that's good. He should be easy to spot then."   
  
"Yep!" Please don't ask any more questions, please don't ask…   
  
"Anything else distinctive?"   
  
Damn! "A…tattoo! He's got a tattoo…on his back!"   
  
"Oh great!" Ken persists, "what's it of?"   
  
OhforChristsake! I panic and look out the window for inspiration.   
  
"A tree!"   
  
"A tree?" Ken looks surprised, "that's an unusual symbol for a criminal to pick. Trees seem so peaceful.…"   
  
"It's a tree with skulls on it!" I cut in, _A tree with skulls on it?!_ What the hell am I thinking?! "It's the gang symbol!"   
  
"The gang symbol?"   
  
"Yeah. Because the drugs come from plants…and cause death…and…stuff."   
  
"Oh," Ken seems to be thinking about something, "that still seems awfully weird…Heh, maybe the gang was high when they came up with it."   
  
"Yeah, that's probably it!"   
  
I want to drive my car right off the road. What the fuck is wrong with me tonight? That was the lamest job of lying I've ever attempted to pull in my life. Why did I suddenly get so nervous?!   
  
Ah well, no use worrying about it now. Ken bought it, and has thankfully gone back to his thoughtful silence….   
  
Well, he did for about ten minutes, anyway.   
  
"So what's the plan?" He asks.   
  
"Plan?"   
  
"Yeah, How are we supposed to deal with Naito? Do we take out just him, or more of the gang too? Do we need to pick up information? Evidence? Did Kritiker give any special instructions?"   
  
What is this, the Spanish Inquisition? Shit Ken, since when were you ever this thorough?   
  
"We just watch for him, and establish that he's the right target. He frequents this club, but there's no knowing if he'll be there tonight or not. Very low profile, you know?"   
  
"'Kay."   
  
Brilliant! There's no way we'll see anyone who matches that description! I can just pretend he didn't show, and tomorrow Kritiker will conveniently 'call the mission off.'   
  
Damn. Remind me to never try lying to Ken again….   
  
I am beyond relief when the blinking neon of 'Yamamoto's' pulls into view.   
  
"And here we are!" Ugh, my voice sounded entirely too cheerful just now. I need a drink.   
  
Ken innocently follows me into the club. We have barely even made it through the front door before we are already confronted by a pair of skanky guys making out by a plastic palm tree. Ken just glances at me and raises an eyebrow. Thankfully he doesn't say anything. I neglected to mention to him that Yamamoto's is a _gay_ club, you see.   
  
We go straight to the bar. Ken thinks it's so we can quietly watch for suspects. It's really because I think I'll have a nervous breakdown any second now if I don't get some liquor in me.   
  
"Scotch, straight up."   
  
"And for you sir?" The bartender turns and looks expectantly at Ken.   
  
Ken seems caught off guard. "I'll have…er, what he's having….but with ice."   
  
Ken, drinking scotch? This ought to be good.   
  
Our drinks are quickly presented, and I watch with great interest as Ken takes his first sip. His eyes go a bit wide, and he signals for the bartender to come back. He blushes and asks for more ice. God, he can be so adorable sometimes.   
  
An hour passes, and we have barely even said anything to each other. Ken's too busy scanning the room for traces of Naito, and I…well I've been watching Ken. So far he hasn't spent any prolonged amount of time looking at anyone. Not even when this shirtless stud sat next to us at the bar! How am I supposed to figure out what his type is like when he doesn't even check anybody out? This is hopeless.   
  
I glance at the counter in front of us. I have accumulated around six or so empty glasses. Ken is still working on his first one, not to mention a cup of melted ice (I think the melted ice is getting two sips to every one of scotch.) I had better do something before I order another drink and pass out.   
  
"We ought to be holding a conversation," I tell him, "it'll look less suspicious then us just sitting here staring around the room."   
  
"Oh, you're right! Sorry, I was too caught up watching for him to think of how we might look!"   
  
Now, if only I could come up with something to talk about.   
  
"So…."   
  
"Yeah…umm…."   
  
There's a few seconds pause. Ken seems to be concentrating on something.   
  
"Did you know that 'A-r-r-r-g' is _not_ a playable word in Pro Scrabble, but 'A-a-r-g-h', 'A-a-r-r-g-h', and 'A-r-r-g-h-h' are?"   
  
"Um, no…I can't say that I did."   
  
"You can't play the word 'Crackheads' either. Weird, huh?"   
  
I don't even want to know how he knows that. Time for me to take over this conversation.   
  
"What type of movies do you like?"   
  
He thinks for a second. "Hm, I don't watch movies too often…but I think I like comedies best."   
  
"Hey so do I!" Score! Something in common (that's not related to killing people I mean.) "I saw this great comedy last week! It was called 'Keitaro's Finger' or something like that…This guy was fighting a league of evil villainesses, and he had to kill them by having sex with them! Only they couldn't show his essentials, if-ya-know-what-I-mean, so they super-imposed this picture of him in a dog suit over his crotch! It was hilarious! And whenever he got turned on, the man in the dog suit would sit up and beg--"   
  
"Yohji!" Ken is turning red again. "That isn't a comedy, it's a _porno_!"   
  
"It was too a comedy! What, have you seen it?"   
  
"NO!" Ken looks _really_ uncomfortable. "I mean, I don't…er.…" He coughs a bit and then falls silent.   
  
I think I've messed with him enough for the moment. I'll give him a few minutes to himself.   
  
I'm surprised when Ken breaks the silence before I do.   
  
"Um, Yohji?" He looks particularly fidgety at the moment.   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Er, judging by the type of place this club appears to be and all…."   
  
Uh-oh…. "Yeah?"   
  
"Does that mean…we're supposed to be…posing as…" his voice is steadily dropping lower, "…a, er, couple?"   
  
I throw my arms around his neck. "OH! Kenken, I thought you'd _never_ ask!!!"   
  
Seriously, he looks like he's about to sink into the floor. You'd think he would have gotten used to my sense of humor by now.   
  
In a much lower voice I add, "it's your call. If you'd rather get hit on by strangers, it's ok with--"   
  
"No! I mean, it's ok. I'm fine with…you know. Just wanted to get it out in the open, that's all."   
  
As if to prove his point, he scoots his stool a bit closer and grabs a hold of my arm. He's actually hanging on a bit _too_ tightly. I think the suggestion of the other people at this club hitting on him was a bit unnerving. This place _is_ a bit seedy.   
  
Another long stretch of uncomfortable silence….   
  
"So…you wanna dance?"   



	5. Mr Greenhair

Ken is following me out into the middle of the crowd. There's some generic techno-type music blaring. Which is good. Cause if the music had been any slower my suggestion might have given Ken the wrong idea about me. I just wanted to ease the tension, that's all. My intentions were one hundred percent innocent.

Yohji Kudoh, one hundred percent innocent?

That can't be right.

Ok, so maybe more like Seventy percent innocent.

Still, it's all for Ken's own good. I want to help him. Really.  
This has nothing to do with _me_. Nope, not a thing.

Ken laughs a bit nervously and rubs the back of his head. "So, I'm afraid I sort of suck at dancing."

"That's ok, just do whatever. No one's paying attention to us."

To tell the truth, I'm not the world's greatest dancer either. I come to these sorts of places to drink, not dance. And score chicks too, of course. It's been a while since I got any though. I've been falling a bit out of it lately. Must be all the missions….

We're just jumping around and I'm finally starting to relax a bit and have fun. I love the way you can be entirely surrounded by people, yet know that no one is noticing you.

At least, no one is watching _me_.

If there are any stares, Ken is on the receiving end of them, because _damn_ he looks _hot_. I can tell that more than a few people are jealous of me right now. Ha, if they only knew, I'm totally wasted on him. Sometimes it seems a shame that I'm so straight.

But my feeling of anonymity quickly disappears as I am startled by the sensation of Ken crushing against me.

Woah! Slow down boy! The music hasn't even turned slow yet. Is he hitting on me? Damn, I wish I knew what's going through his head right now!

"Hey, no need to rush things, Kenken! If you want a kiss, I at least expect some dinner--"

He's thrown his arms around my neck and has his head right up against my ear! What _is_ he up to! My chest is feeling all tight for some reason, this is really….

"Your left!"

"Huh?" Now that was hardly romantic. What the hell did he mean by that?

"Suspect!" He whispers, "He's behind you to your left!"

Oh, crap. Ken's still worrying about the stupid 'mission.' Me and my big fucking mouth. And here I thought we were having a 'moment,' too.

"A man with green hair just came in through the front! He's heading towards the bar!"

"Is he tall?" I ask, obviously hoping he isn't.

"Yes!"

Shit. This is _not_ a good development! What the fuck do I do now!

"I don't think it's him."

"What!" Ken cries in disbelief, "You haven't even looked at him!"

"I just have a feeling." I reply lamely, "Detective's instinct."

"What load of crap is that? We have to check him out!"

"Why don't you check _me_ out?"

Shit! I _swear_ I was not planning on saying that! Why DID I say that! It must be the alcohol talking….

"Stop joking around, Yohji! We're on a _mission_ for christsake!"

"Yeah, yeah, the _mission_." I mutter to myself. "Fuck the mission." Is added under my breath.

"You know what we have to do." Ken whispers, his head still leaning on my shoulder (but with the mood quite dead now.)

"No, what?" _I don't feel like dealing with this…._

"Check for the tattoo!"

"But it's on his back," I whine, "we can't see…."

"Exactly! One of us needs to get him to take his shirt off! That's the only way we can be sure if he's the target!"

Fuuuuuck. I want to go home. I do _not_ like where this is going.

"So, can you do it?" Ken asks.

"Say what!"

"Could you go hit on him? You're a lot better at that sort of thing than I am. I'd probably screw up before--"

"No way!" I interrupt, "Why do I always get labeled as Weiß's slut! I'm sick of being the one to always do the missions like that!"

Ken sighs. "You're right."

"What?"

"You're right." Ken repeats. "You do get stuck with an unfair amount of missions like this. I wasn't thinking about your feelings."

He's not even going to argue with me? He's too good to be true.

"I'll be back in a few minutes."

"What? Where are you going?" I cry.

"To check for the tattoo."

"No way! I'm not letting you do that!"

"But you said you didn't want to, and-"

"Well, I don't!"

"One of us has to do it!" Ken insists, "Don't worry Yohji, I can handle-"

I grab hold of his arm very tightly. "You are NOT going over there!"

If there is one thing I want to do less than hit on a strange man, it's to watch Ken do it. The mere thought makes me cringe. I storm off towards the bar before Ken gets a chance to argue further.

What have I gotten myself into? I swear, the things I'll do for l-er, friendship.

I saunter up towards the green-haired 'suspect.' And what a piece of work he is. Completely decked out in bondage gear. Ugh, I feel sick.

I glance back towards Ken praying that he isn't watching me. If he's not paying attention I can just pretend that I looked for the tattoo, and tell him it wasn't there. But no. Ken is too good of a teammate for that. He's watching me with undivided attention, in case I get attacked and need backup or something.

Crap. Looks like I'm in this for the long haul.

"Hey there."

Mr. Green-hair turns around and glares at me. I guess he's not an overly social guy.

"This is gonna sound weird, but I need to ask you to do me a _big_ favor…."

His eyes narrow, intensifying the already lethal glare.

"My Ex is watching see, and I want to make him jealous…could you pretend I'm hitting on you, and uh, take off your shirt? I'll pay you…."

Um, is that a lust for blood I see glinting in his eyes? I sure know how to pick them…

"Bitch, that is the _worst_ pick-up line I've ever heard. I'll do your Ex a favor, and show him _this_."

I open my mouth to assure him that it's not necessary, but his fist catches me in the jaw before the words make it out.

With God as my witness, I will never lie to Ken again.


	6. You found it!

  
  
That's funny. I don't remember Ken having a twin brother.   
  
I don't remember having two left hands either….   
  
Oooh. That's right. I just got punched in the face.   
  
Uggh.   
  
My double vision slowly starts to slide back into place.   
  
Ken is leaning over me and looking extremely upset.   
  
"Oh Yohji! I'm so sorry! I should have listened to you!"   
  
"Huh?" What's he babbling about? He sounds almost as delirious as me.   
  
"You were right!" He clarifies, "it wasn't him."   
  
"Oh? How did you figure that out?"   
  
"I knocked him out and checked."   
  
I look to the side and am met with a view of one very unconscious Mr. Green-hair. He's covered in some extremely nasty looking bruises and his nose is bent at a funny angle. Ouch. Better him than me.   
  
"Uh Ken, I kinda doubt it took all that just to knock him out."   
  
Ken looks at me a little sheepishly.   
  
"I uh….sorta lost my temper when he punched you, heh."   
  
Aw. He cares, he really does.   
  
"Well, our cover is pretty much blown for the night. Why don't we go home and try this again another time?" Yeah right. Like hell I'm coming here again….   
  
Ken agrees with me immediately. "Yeah. I think you ought to rest after that."   
  
"He didn't get me _that_ bad. But I would like to get out of here."   
  
Despite my protests that I felt fine, Ken insists on helping me out to the car. He seems unusually worried about me. I wonder how long I was out for?   
  
I reach into my pocket and make the unwelcome discovery that it is empty. Crap! Where are my car keys?   
I turn around to break the news to Ken but catch sight of them dangling off his finger. How did he get them? Ken looks a bit smug. I reach out for them and he quickly jerks his hand away.   
  
He just points and says, "uh-uh. Passenger seat."   
  
"No way! Give me back my keys! How'd you get them in the first place, anyway?"   
  
"I took them when you were unconscious."   
  
"What?! No fair! No one touches my car but me!"   
  
"Yohji, you had six drinks and then got punched in the face," Ken states firmly, "there is no way in hell I'm letting you get behind the wheel."   
  
I stubbornly take another pitiful swipe at the keys. He's got a point, but I have this issue with my ego…. "I'm fine! I can't even feel the alcohol!"   
  
Ken holds the keys over his head in a threatening gesture. "I'm not joking Yohji, either you let me drive or I'm throwing the keys and we both walk."   
  
I can tell he means it too. It's a very serious threat because he knows how I feel about my car….   
  
"Damn you. Fine, drive."   
  
I try to give him a menacing glare but I'm too tired and confused now to pull it off. If it had been anyone other than Ken making that threat I probably would have beaten them up.   
  
We drive home in silence, but I catch Ken checking on me several times. It seems like something's on his mind. But the ride back seems to go much faster than before, and we arrive at the shop before I get around to asking what's bothering him.   
  
Neither of us expect what we find when we get there.   
  
Omi, Aya, and (oh, god no,) Manx are sitting at the table obviously waiting for Ken and I to return. Omi looks concerned, but Aya and Manx look seriously pissed. Aya's scowl deepens as he surveys what we're wearing.   
  
"Where the hell have you been?!" Aya demands, "Manx has been waiting for three hours!"   
  
Ken is looking _really_ confused right now. "But the mission…we were…."   
  
"Mission? What mission?!" Aya bellows, "Manx has been waiting for hours so she can give us a mission! And you've been gone that whole time!"   
  
"But Yohji told me…."   
  
Now everyone has turned and is staring at me. I'd like to learn how to disappear right about now….   
  
"Excuse us, but I think I need to have a word with Yohji."   
  
Ken looks upset. He grabs my arm and starts to drag me upstairs. I really have a talent for screwing things up, don't I?   
  
"You LIED to me?!!"   
  
Ken looks hurt. Shit, this was not my intended outcome of the evening.   
  
"Well, not _exactly_, stretched the truth a little maybe…."   
  
"Just what is wrong with you anyway?!" He continues before I can finish with my excuse, "you've been acting _really_ weird lately, Yohji. You're starting to freak me out. What the hell is going on?!"   
  
"I can ask you the same question!" I reply, a little meaner than intended.   
  
"What are you talking about?!"   
  
"Hiding something is only another form of lying, _Kenken_."   
  
"_What_?!" Ken hollers, "I have no idea what you're talking about!"   
  
"I'll _show_ you what I'm talking about!" I drag him into my room and pull the evidence out of my dresser. "THIS is what I'm talking about!" I thrust the magazine at him and wait expectantly.   
  
His reaction is not what I'd had in mind though. The look of anger promptly drops off his face, and he grabs the magazine out of my hand.   
  
"YOU FOUND IT!"   
  
Um, why doesn't he look embarrassed?   
  
"Aw man, I thought Omi was going to _kill_ me! I'm so glad it turned up!"   
  
Wait…did he just say _Omi_?! Does…not…compute….   
  
"Omi? Are you saying that belongs to _Omi_?! What were _you_ doing with it?!"   
  
"He had to have some friends come over to work on a school project," Ken explains, "he didn't want them laying around so he asked me to hide them."   
  
"So if it's not yours, than that means you aren't…."   
  
"What are you talking about Yohji?" Why is he looking so goddamn innocent all of the sudden?!   
  
Oooooh. My head hurts.   
"Yohji? Are you ok? You're starting to look ill."   
  
Oh, now that's surprising news.   
  
"I'm just having a lousy day…I need to lie down. Could you fill me in on the mission later?"   
  
Ken has gone back to looking worried. "Are you sure? You really don't look so good. Do you want me to get you anything?"   
  
"No. I just want to go to bed." I say, "just fill in for me at the briefing, ok?"   
  
Ken frowns. "Ok, I can do that. But let me know if you need something, alright?"   
  
"Yes, but just quiet's good…ugh, my head is throbbing."   
  
Ken gives me a last worried glance and then silently shuts the door. I lock it before diving into the sanctuary of my bed.   
  
Another minute out there and I would be in serious danger of losing my sanity.   
  
I really ought to stop getting up in the mornings.   
  
  
-The End!- (sorta)   
  
  
**A/N:** Never fear, I have a sequel where they get together after all. Look out for "Better Days." 


End file.
